Ever since the toilet broke in my office, I've been relieving myself outside in the same spot. All winter spikes of glowing green shot up, while everything around withered into dead, tangled brown.
It took a while to connect my routine to its result. but at one point I realized I was growing something. I walked all over the farm and confirmed that my spot was the largest, greenest, most robust tuft around.
The following is a poem about my man, Piss Man.
Piss Man
Piss Man lives in the ground,
it was by me he was found.
We see his crown,
the rest is down.
Piss Man grew from head to toe.
On his head the piss did go.
He has green hair,
goes nowhere.
Piss Man waits for a cut,
then he walks in their gut.
In other news:
Our first on-farm goose hatching happened yesterday, the day of the eclipse
The chickens made it outside
Prunella is taking her chicken guard duty seriously
We lost three chickens during the transition to pasture. Would have been four, but…
We brought one, Holy Shit, back from the dead
Adopt Holy Shit the chicken
Unfortunately, Holy Shit won’t be reintegrated into the flock. The flock wants them dead for some reason and Holy Shit is about half their size, so won’t stand much chance.
As of now they are keeping our lone goose hatchling company (separated). Our neighbors are considering to adopt, but if they decide not to Holy Shit is up for adoption.
They are a purebred unsexed Bresse runt. If you’re looking for an adventure with a bird that has come back from the dead, let me know!
Howling! I hope the little guy gets adopted
We're here talking about your post right now---all hopped up on eclipse energy!
You could title this one the "shit and piss post"....
Must be great to see all this life coming forth on your space.